


Nothing Ever Goes Right at a Party

by WhiteravenGreywolf



Category: Original Work
Genre: Comedy, Fantasy and Sci-fi all roled up in a little bundle, Heist, I mean my multiverse, It's not Ocean's 8 it's Belle's 7, LGBTQA+ Characters, Lesbian Romance, More explanations inside, Multi, Multiverse, Robbing a demon's house, Superpowered Shenanigans, Thought it's pretty long, during a party, lesbian fluff, poc characters, short-story - Freeform, you get what i mean
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-11-19
Updated: 2018-11-19
Packaged: 2019-08-25 22:28:11
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,441
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16669534
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/WhiteravenGreywolf/pseuds/WhiteravenGreywolf
Summary: To open the door, Belle needs the sword, and that sword is currently in the possession of the worst demon in the multiverse, Freddy. Now, with the help of her friends, they're gonna rob him.





	Nothing Ever Goes Right at a Party

**Author's Note:**

> Hey guys! If you know me, then long time no see, I guess. I released a small Overwatch one-shot in October, but I haven't published a lot since July. I was working on fiction. I know, scary right? It took me way too much time to find what to write, and how to write it, but I'm pretty confident I can make it work this time.  
> What am I working on, you ask? The first step toward this thing! And what is this thing, you ask? Basically, it was supposed to be the prologue for another fiction I was supposed to write in January of this year. Except it's a beast of a prologue, and while I still think it's super cool, it would have sucked as the beginning of a story. I posted it on Wattpad because I didn't know you could post original work on AO3, but now I know, so here you go!  
> I hope you'll enjoy it, please tell me what you thought about it, leave a comment, tell me who your favorite character is or whatever! If I finish what I'm working on, and no editor wants to publish it, I guess I'll post it here as well, we'll see.  
> Once again, I hope you enjoy it!

When Freddy Smith throws a party, everyone scrambles for an invitation. Markus didn't get one, but forgery and lies are his second best talent, he said, right after killing people. So when he drove up the driveway in his white sports car, motor purring like a tiger and sunglasses on his nose, even though it was already nine p. m. and the sun had gone down hours ago, he knew he was getting in. He rolled around a squared fountain at the center of the driveway and parked right in front of the entrance, where a valet dressed in a red suit was ready to take his keys. He stepped out and the boy trotted to take his place.

  
"Careful son, it's a limited edition."

  
"Of course, sir." the young man replied.

  
He settled into the seat and winked at Markus, before carefully driving off. Marcus smirked and walked up the three stairs leading to the front door. A tall man dressed in black was standing in front of the door. On the other side, the music was booming, threatening to break the walls and pulsing through the windows. Markus straightened his black tie and fetched his invitation in the inside pocket of his tailored jacket, before handing it to the bouncer. The man looked longly at the invitation, then eyed Markus over his own sunglasses. Markus was just as tall as him, maybe a bit taller, but much, much thinner, lanky like a wire. He hid his muscles well.

  
"You sure you're on the list?" the bouncer asked.

  
Markus chuckled and leaned toward the bald man.

  
"Of course I am!" As he spoke, he lowered his sunglasses, showing ember-like eyes, crimson red and dancing liked flames. "You could say Freddy and I are like cousins..."

  
A second longer and his horns would have appeared, dispelling his disguise. But the man nodded and gave him his invitation back.

  
"Have a good night."

  
Markus smiled.

  
"You too."

  
He patted the bouncer's arm for good measure before pushing the door open and pocketing the invite once again.

  
"And I'm in."

* * *

  
The boy had brought the car to the garage, with all of the other very expensive cars he and the other valets had been driving since earlier this evening. He'd seen another one of the men trotting back to the entrance, and the third one was at the garage when he arrived, smocking a cigarette in a corner.

  
"Hey Charlie!" the smoker called.

  
Charlie trotted over to him, mindful of staying in the wind so the cigarette smoke would not get in his face.

  
"Yeah?"

  
"You haven't taken a break yet, have you?"

  
Charlie shrugged with a smile.

  
"What can I say? I so full of energy I don't need a break."

  
The older guy eyed him up and down. Charlie was small for a guy, and passed very easily for a teenager, with barely enough hair on his chin to not look like a tall kid. His red shirt and vest were a bit too big and so were his pants, but it didn't seem to bother him. He passed a hand through his red hair, waiting for the older man to speak again. The smoker finished his cigarette and threw it on the concrete ground of the extravagantly large garage, crushing it under his polished shoe.

  
"You sure you don't want a break?"

  
"And I'm in."

  
Charlie suddenly looked sheepish and he scratched the back of his short hair.

  
"Can I get, like, five minutes? Just to breath a bit."

  
"Of course, no problem. But don't wander too far, okay? Boss is not going to be happy if you get lost. This place is way too big."

  
"Sure. I'll just stay put, don't worry about me."

  
The older man nodded and trotted away to return to the entrance. Charlie waited a good thirty seconds, just to make sure everyone was out of sight. He doubled-checked outside, and finally, he ran. He was but a blur for the fraction of a second, leaving sparks of electricity behind him and overcharging the neons. The sparks had barely dispersed that he was already back, once again a blur until he came to a standstill, bringing more sparks which ricocheted on the cars near him, turning their lights on and off. The neons over his head blinked slightly. Charlie took a deep breath, barely exhausted by his run, and looked at the watch on his wrist. The hands of the clock had stopped moving. He groaned.

  
"Not again..." he complained.

  
"How are things going?"

  
"Oh, hum... Phase 2 is on!" he declared.

  
Another car pulled up the driveway. The other valet quickly parked it and stepped out.

  
"You okay there Charlie?"

  
"Yeah. Peter said I should take a break but I'm good."

  
He trotted away quickly, the sole of his shoes smoking slightly. He hoped it would be mistaken for a crushed cigarette.

* * *

  
Markus walked passed the entrance hall quickly. Someone in his periphery asked if he wanted to leave his jacket but he ignored them. He walked into the main room and whistled. Freddy sure had fine taste. The main room was as large as a standard ballroom. It was white and modern, but the colored light falling on the dance floor tinted everything. The set of stairs leading upstairs was closed off by a velvet rope, and another bouncer – or was this one a bodyguard? - was keeping an eye on it. In fact, the security was quite assured. In this large room alone Markus counted just short of twenty security guards, all dressed in black like him but all much stronger looking than him.  
A single glance at the room was enough to decrypt much of the situation. The buffet was on the right corner, the bar against the left wall, right next to the large windows opened on the terrace and pool. There probably were as many people inside as there were outside. The DJ was mixing on a dais, across the room. There were two corridors leaving off the main room, all guarded.

  
Markus once again straightened his tie and nodded at the security guard closest to him before he walked down the two steps leading to the dance floor.

  
"The guy has quite the security," he noted out loud.

  
"Tell us something we don't know."

  
Markus plastered on his best pretend smile.

  
"Well, I see just my kind of girl at the bar. Maybe I should introduce myself."

  
When no answer came, he smirked and traversed the dancing crowd nimbly, until he could reach the bar. Most people came to the bar to pick a drink and then moved on, but he could already tell it wasn't her style. She was standing, leaning against the bar on her forearms, a glass of something, probably whiskey, in her hand. Unlike most women, she wasn't wearing a dress, but a suit, like him. At least it had been a suit before. She'd discarded the jacket, keeping only the white shirt and tie. The thin material barely hid the many tattoos on her back and arms, their vivid color discernible through the cotton when the colored lights weren't on her.

  
He came to stand beside her, his back against the counter, elbows supporting him.

  
"What is a lovely lady like you doing in a place like this?" he flirted.

  
She glared at him and finished her glass in one gulp. Her ponytail slid off her shoulder as she placed the glass back on the counter unceremoniously. She signaled for another at the bartender. He nodded and picked up the bottle. Markus raised his hand.

  
"The same please."

  
As the bartender took care of their order, Markus quickly surveyed the room once again. He spoke loudly enough to be heard over the music.

  
"I know, I know. My charms are wasted on you. Which as me wondering where is your lady friend?"

  
She picked up a peanut from the small ball beside her.

  
"Change of plan. She'll signal Phase 3"

  
"A last-minute change, hum..."

  
Markus took a sip of his whiskey, once again admiring Freddy's taste in everything.

  
"Damn, this guy is amazing. I would make him my bitch if we weren't robbing him right now."

  
His companion threw the peanut at his head. It ricocheted off his perfect black hair and fell to the ground.

  
"Now that's a waste of good peanuts, Brooke."

  
Brooke chuckled at herself and finished once again her glass. Markus continued to survey the room, and he soon found exactly who he as looking for.

  
"Well, it seems my date is here. I'll let you sulk on your own. But please, do me a favor, and invite her to dance as soon as she gets here. It'll be fun, I promise."

  
He finished his whiskey in one gulp and placed the glass back on the counter, with such a force that if he hadn't been holding back both the glass and the counter would have broken. He pushed himself off the counter and brushed his jacket before going toward his target.

* * *

  
  
Charlie had picked up Holden in a tree, where he'd been hidden since he'd jumped over the garden fence. He'd left him at the foot of another tree, leading straight to a window. Then, he'd run back to the garage, leaving sparks and the scent of burned nature behind him. Holden blinked multiple times until he was sure his brain had adjusted to the extremely quick travel. He then looked up at his target, the obviously closed window on the first level of the enormous house. He nimbly jumped up the tree, the branches barely wiggling under his weight. Once he was as high as he could be, he walked along the branch which extended the closest to the window. He was as nimble as a cat, crouching only when he reached the end. There, he assessed the situation. He could easily jump to the window, or, worst possible case, through the window – which he of all people was desperately trying to avoid – but he couldn't reach said window to open it, which was his main problem. He squinted, forcing on his bottle green eyes to see through the glass. Everything was dark inside, but he still noticed the potted plant in a corner of what he assumed was an office of some kind.

  
He closed his eyes and with little-needed focus, he willed the plant to grow. Suddenly, one of the thin branches of the plant extended, growing increasingly strong and long as it snaked its way toward the window. The other branches, however, didn't seem to take this sudden grow so well. The previously green leaves slowly began to whiter, barely holding on their stems.

  
The ever-growing branch finally made it to the handle of the window. Holden made it wrap around the handle a couple of times, then pull up. The plant struggled for a moment, and Holden feared it may not be strong enough. Slowly but surely, however, the handle moved up, unlocking the window. As soon as it was unlocked Holden leaped from the tree and got a hold of the small ledge, his strong fingers holding on as the rest of his body dangled against the smooth facade of the house. With one hand he pushed the window until it was horizontal. He then pulled himself in and closed expertly the window behind him, leaving only the strange shaped plant behind as the proof of his entrance. The poor thing was still clutching the handle for dear life, while the rest of its body was dead on the ground, or very near to it.

  
Holden proceeded inside the house, a hand on the hilt of his dagger, strapped to his lower back. He approached the door, his steps still as light as before. His other hand hesitated between reaching for the door or for one of the many small pouches on his belt. Finally, he stole a glance through the crack of the door. There's light outside, and guards, obviously. In this corridor only, Holden could see three. Taking care of them shouldn't be a problem, but what worried him the most is that the hallway led straight to the balcony overlooking the dance floor, and he was not supposed to be seen. And even if he was fast enough to take them all done, quietly wasn't an option here.

  
After a quick look at the room, he decided on a strategy. With two fingers he searched through one of the pouches and extracted two olive drupes. He kept one in his hand while he threw the other at the dying plant. The seed went through the pot, breaking the ceramic apart with a loud crack. He then ran and slid behind the desk, waiting for his moment.

* * *

  
As he'd predicted, they came as two, the third one close, but still outside the room. It didn't take them more than a few seconds to notice the very strange way the plant had suddenly grown. This was when Holden struck.

  
First, with a smooth motion of the wrist, he took his dagger out and stood up from behind the desk. He threw the dagger at the first man, who didn't even have time to react. The dagger nicked him in the neck, tearing through his jugular before it planted itself in the wooden shelf behind him. He fell to the ground, clutching his open throat, blood oozing through this fingers and gurgles escaping his mouth every time he tried to breathe.

  
"What the!"

  
Before the second man could react, Holden jumped over the desk and kicked the gun out of the man's hands, throwing him out of balance as well. Holden grabbed his neck and threw him over the desk, making more noise than necessary as the man's body knocked everything clean off the wooden surface.

  
The air whipping passed him alerted him that the last man had finally entered the fight, and was shooting at him, with a silencer no less. Nothing can stop the party, Holden thought. But two could play that game.

  
Holden turned around, the olive drupe pressed in the palm of his hand. As he moved, wood began to grow from the drupe. Four stands, two on each side, which began to twirl and arc, forming the body of a pretty fragile looking bow. Holden aimed. In the time it had taken it to raise his arm toward the man, an even thinner branch spread from the top of the bow, and reached the bottom at top speed, forming the string. All he had to do was pull it back and release. He reached for another one of his pouch, another drupe, an almond this time. He placed it on the string, and with the exact same incredible speed, it extended into an arrow, a circular and mostly regular branch with one side as sharp as a rapier. Holden released the almond arrow, and it found the last man's trachea before he could fire another round. He fell against the door, dead on impact.

  
Before Holden could celebrate his victory, however, the man he'd thrown over the desk was getting back up with a groan, holding his ringing head with one hand and the edge of the desk with the other. Holden once again jumped over the desk, kicking the man with both his feet. He stumbled backward with such strength that he easily passed through the window, the glass shattering under his weight. Holden watched as he crashed on the lawn. He quickly glanced back and perked up his pointed ears. No one seemed to have noticed, inside anyway. The loud music had probably muffled the sound of shattering glass. Outside, however, the two nearest guards who'd been patrolling the garden had heard their comrade fall and were around his probably dead body within the minute. Before Holden could take more ammo out, however, there was a flash of blue light, and both men fell to the ground, their body contorting in seizure-like attacks before they relaxed. Charlie came running back and stopped under the window, looking up at his partner.

  
"What happened to being silent? I can't tase all the guys outside!" the younger man whisper-shouted.

  
"Yes, you can! Now get back to your position."

  
Holden walked away from the window, leaving Charlie with three unconscious bodies, one of them probably dead, and no idea what to do with them.

* * *

  
Back in the ballroom, as Markus liked to call it, the red-eyed man stared as a woman made her way down the stairs. The man standing watch at the bottom unhooked the rope to let her through. By all means, she wasn't dressed to party. She looked exactly the part of the head of security, which she was. Top tank and cargo pants, a talkie attached to her belt, but no weapon. She had never needed one.

  
Markus attached more importance to what made her special. Her hair, white as snow, resting on her shoulders. Her eyes – though she avoided to make eye contact with anyone he'd had a glance and a glance was enough – were the color of the afternoon sky, the bluest of blue. Markus had a very good memory for details, especially those he could compliment. Not sure on how to better approach his target, he followed her swiftly. She was making her way through the dance floor, though it was obvious she didn't know how to quickly walk through crowds. Not like he did anyway. In a blink, he was standing behind her, towering over her. She suddenly looked petite beside this tall man, which made him smile even more. She was cuter than he'd ever imagined.

  
He tapped her shoulder and she bolted around. She looked up at his face with a frown.

  
"What do you want?" she shouted over the music.

  
"Just a dance," he replied with a smile.

  
"I don't dance," she retorted.

  
She was about to walk away. In any other circumstance, Markus would have let her, as he hated insisting and she obviously didn't want anything to do with him, but this was his part of the plan, and he would be damned if he didn't uphold to it. He caught her wrist before she could move away. She glared at him.

  
"Just one? Plus, I think I'm just your type."

  
For good measure, he took his sunglasses off, showing his blood red eyes. Instantly, the woman's interest was peaked, but not because she found him attractive. He could see in her eyes she wanted to know who he was because she'd probably never seen another demon in a long, long time.

  
"One dance, and then I'm off."

  
He continued to smile amicably.

  
"Unless you ask for more, obviously."

  
She didn't really know what to do when it came to dancing, he guessed by the look of uncertainty on her face. Everyone else around them was moving with the beat of the music or grinding on each other like they were alone in this enormous room. But Markus, ever the gentleman, placed a hand on her waist and took her hand in his. She frowned.

  
"A Waltz?"

  
He smirked cleverly.

  
"I practically invented the waltz, darling."

  
She was too small to place her hand on his shoulder so she placed it on his bicep instead. He then began to move from side to side, evoking more a slow then a waltz. She didn't complain.

  
"So tell me, who are you?"

  
"Intrigued, hum?"

  
"I just haven't seen other demons in this... place."

  
He smiled.

  
"That's because I'm not from here either. I'm on a holiday of sorts if you will. Things have been hectic back home so I thought I would take a short break."

  
"Still doesn't give me your name."

  
"If you insist. I usually go by Markus. The last name is up to you, I guess."

  
She glanced around them, probably toward the other security guys, and Markus moved his hand slightly to better hold her waist, and turn the switch of her talkie with two fingers, shutting it off.

  
"I don't remember seeing a Markus on the guest list."

  
"That's because I invited myself. You see, people like me we only thrive when we're at the top, otherwise, we wither. I'm sure you already know that. So when I heard the place to be was here, I had no other choice but to invite myself."

  
"You know I should throw you out, right? Plus, you confessed."

  
"I was hoping my honesty would win me a few points."

  
She chuckled.

  
"An honest demon? That's a first one."

  
"Oh, it happens. You shouldn't worry about an honest demon, you should worry about why they are honest, and why they aren't."

  
The song came to an end, and almost instantly another began, but they both heard the change and the woman stopped moving, her hand dropping from his arm. Markus let her go as well, but not before pressing a delicate kiss on the hand he'd been holding, surprising her.

  
"Are you sure you don't want another dance? Or perhaps a drink?"

  
"No, I have to get back to work."

  
"Alright. But I'll miss your company on the dance floor."

  
She rolled her eyes and walked away toward the pool, where she'd heard there was a problem.

  
Meanwhile, Markus watched her leave before he looked up at the balcony. He'd felt his gaze on him a while back, but he had purposefully decided not to look up. Only now he finally decided to look at the man – or rather the demon – staring at him with a burning hatred. Markus smirked, as blood-red eyes met molten lava ones through the colored light attached to the balcony. Markus wished he could have a better look at Freddy before he walked away. He felt extremely satisfied, however, to have attracted his ire. It was obvious the man hated it when other people tried to play with his things.

* * *

  
Charlie had left Neelam in front of a locked window on the ground floor before leaving as quickly as he'd arrived. Neelam blinked a few times and wished she'd brought goggles. Her eyes felt dry even though she'd held them close through the less than a second journey. She shook her head once, and finally got to work.

  
Sure, she could have picked the lock or break the glass of the window, but she abided by the philosophy that whatever didn't exist should never trouble you. She brought her hands together and something teal began to shine between her fingers. She placed it on the window and it spread over the glass. The next second, however, both the strange matter and the glass were gone, leaving a clean, easy entrance for Neelam.

  
She stepped in what looked to be a living room of some kind, with nice little white couches placed in a rectangle around a classy wooden table. A piece of furniture spread all over the wall across from the window, with a very expensive looking TV at its center, and a lot of trinkets occupying the shelves around, a few of which Neelam wouldn't mind taking just as a souvenir.

  
She opened the door and entered the corridor leading to the party. She could see the whole light and music show from here. But most importantly, she could see the security guard stationed halfway through the hallway, who had definitely noticed her when she'd pulled the door open. She reacted before he could call for backup or even approach her. The same teal material formed in her left hand. She threw it at the man. In mid hair, the matter seemed to take shape, turning into a clawed hook attached to a rope, the material darkening as it shaped itself. The claw dug deep in the man's shoulder. He let out a painful grunt and she pulled back. Surprised by both the attack and the motion, the security guard didn't have time to balance himself. He fell face first on the ground. She ran up to him and punched him in the temple, making sure he was passed out.  
"Neelam, more people coming your way." she heard Brooke say in her earpiece.

  
"Tell me something I don't know!"

  
She quickly opened the nearest door and slid inside. She made sure the door was closed before she turned around, and found herself facing three men who'd watched her come in with confusion. She mentally swore. Of all the placed she'd decided to hide, it was the security guards break room.

  
The three men left their game of cards and slowly stood up, unsure whether they should reach for their weapon. Sure she didn't look like a guest, dressed in her usual attire, but she was just a woman. Her piercing blue eyes swept around the room to check the situation quickly. If there was something she was good at, it was bluffing.

  
"So, what are we playing?" she asked as she crossed her arms.

  
"I think you should get out," one of the men said.

  
"Oh come on, just one round? Or what, are you afraid of losing against a girl?"

  
"I said get out." the same man declared as he pulled out his handgun for good measure.

  
"Fine, I get it. You guys like to entertain each other, no need for a girl, am I right? I'll see myself out."

  
Before she could turn around, however, the door opened behind her and two guys appeared.

  
"Dave's out! What the hell..."

  
All gazes fell on her and she grimaced.

  
"Yikes! I guess I'll stay then!"

  
Teal matter appeared out of her hand and she threw it to the ground. It turned to smoke quickly, a thick, throat burning smoke which made the security guards choke and their eyes water. Neelam, however, was unaffected, as she'd willed the gas to only affect owners of the Y chromosome. More matter appeared in both her hands. Though it was hard to see through the smoke, she still managed to throw two dark teal daggers at two of the men around the table. One took it in the shoulder, but the second only grazed the other man's arm, making her grimace. She really needed to work on her throwing aim. It would have been easier if she could have brought a gun, but no, they had to be quiet, so no firearm, no matter how much she'd argued that her usual semi-automatic would work with a silencer. She knew she would have made it work.

  
She felt arms trying to grab her from behind and kicked the man behind her in the knee, hard. He fell to the side with a yelp, holding himself against the door-frame. She bolted around and punched him in the face. His head hit the same door frame which had been holding him up and he fell to the ground, blood trickling out of his skull.

  
Seeing the smoke dispersing. She closed the door in front of the last man who was still coughing in the hallway, next to Dave's bleeding form. She spread a bit of matter in the lock, blocking the door. She turned to face the three men inside.

  
She took her dagger out of the first man's shoulder and he screamed in response. She sighed:

  
"Men are such babies sometimes. It's just a dagger, you know? I've had worst."

  
She planted the dagger in his other shoulder and he screamed again, stumbling back.

  
"Hold that for me, will ya'?"

  
She turned back to the two other men, who'd taken their weapons out. She huffed.

  
"Why would they only let me bring a knife to a gunfight?"

  
The man closer to her aimed at her with his shotgun. She ducked behind the table, tilting it to shield herself. Wood and plastic splintered everywhere and the sound of the impact was almost as loud as the shot itself. Cards flew all around the room, some landing next to Neelam. She smirked. More matter appeared in her hands, glowing until they turned into a set of cards with razor sharp blades tugged on all faces.

  
"I did ask to play a round."

  
She stood from behind the table and sent three cards to the shotgun-wielding man. They cut through his skin, leaving three cuts who instantly began bleeding on his white shirt. He seemed surprised, unsure of what had just done such a thing. She threw three other cards, and this time they dug straight in his torso, embedding themselves deep in his flesh. He stumbled back and she jumped over the table, one last card in hand. She slid his throat with it faster than he could realize what was happening. He fell to the ground in a mess of bloody gurgles, playing cards stuck in his chest and his weapon all but forgotten as both his hands tried uselessly to contain the flow of blood coming out of his neck.

  
"I'm guessing you're folding?"

  
She heard the click of a handgun behind her and turned around. The last man had tried to open the door, but Neelam had made sure no one could escape. When he'd realized he was stuck, he'd pulled out his weapon and aimed at her.

  
"Let's make a deal, alright? I let you go and you don't shoot me. It's useless anyway."

  
He didn't listen and emptied his magazine on her. She raised her left arm. The small pendant around her wrist began to glow, and a thin crackling shield spread in front of her. As soon as bullets made impact with it they turned to dust. She advanced toward him, determinate, and gathered matter in her right hand. It turned into a long kunai which she planted in the man's outstretched arm just as he was running out of bullets. He yelped and tried to retract his arm, but only managed to twist the blade and hurt himself even more. Neelam lowered her arm, the shield dissipating, and she looked at the man who was slowly sinking to the ground.

  
"I warned you it wouldn't work."

  
The man was in tears, fear distorting his features horribly.

  
"Please..."

  
She sighed.

  
"You really suck at your job, you know? Have you considered changing your career plans? After they fix your arm, I mean."

  
She waited for his answer, and he seemed confused as to why she was trying to have a conversation with him.

  
"I'll... think about it..."

  
"Good idea."

  
She walked away and picked up the shotgun on the ground. She glanced at the man still holding her dagger in his shoulder, half passed out from pain in a corner and shook her head.

  
"No, but seriously. You're supposed to be a bodyguard, right? You're supposed to be cool and collected and ready to kick some ass. Not do... whatever the fuck this was. I mean, to be fair, I warned you it wouldn't work."

  
She turned to face the door, and saw it bend inward as the men – she guessed they were more than one now – outside tried to push it. She sighed. It wasn't even locked.

  
"Alright. I'm done with discretion. I feel it's a bit too late for that anyway, don't you think?"

  
She placed her right hand on the barrel of the shotgun, and teal matter began to creep up on it. Some pieces began to shift and grow, modifying the weapon into something the guard had never seen before, but he sure seemed glad she hadn't used it on him before. The door bent again, the wood cricking more than the hinges. She chuckled.

  
"Damn, those guys are weak."

  
She looked one last time at the young, fearful security guard.

  
"I would advise you keep your head down for now, okay? This is gonna be pretty loud."

  
He nodded and slid to the side, using his unharmed hand to pulled himself even more in the corner. She aimed at the door as it bent once again, and pulled the trigger.

* * *

  
Iris had been very nervous about the idea of changing their plan so close to the event, but she trusted Belle. However, she felt rather lonely in the big limousine Markus had rented for the occasion. She knew it was supposed to be the one which would have brought at the party with Brooke, but without Brooke, it wasn't really the same. Brooke. She couldn't keep her thoughts away from her girlfriend. She had yet to see her outfit. Actually, this was the first time she was so well dressed since their prom, and prom had been years ago, and so different. Different because they'd gone as friends, no matter how much they'd both wished it had been a date but had only realized foolishly later.

  
The makeup around her eyes itched awfully. She wanted to take it off, but she knew she had to keep it, to hide her marks. She glanced at the TV attached to the wall separating her from the driver, which she hadn't bothered to turn on. Her reflection was obviously extremely stressed out, and the red marks around her eyes seemed to glow through the makeup, even though she knew it was impossible. They'd never glowed, or at least she'd never seen them glow. Brooke once told her they glowed when she used her powers, but it wasn't like she had any way to check.

  
She shook herself out of her thoughts. They were beginning to ramble and she knew it wasn't a good thing. She wished she could distract herself by looking outside, but it was dark already and the tainted windows didn't help much.

  
All to soon – or perhaps after an excruciatingly long amount of time – the car turned around the fountain outside and the door opened for her. She let out a relieved sigh when she saw Charlie was the one holding a hand out for her to take, with a bright smile on his face. She walked out of the limo, her balance uncertain. She should have never agreed to wear heels. At the first chance she'd get she would ditch them, she promised herself.

  
Charlie closed the door behind her and the limo rolled away. He took his place back at the bottom of the steps, waiting for another car to arrive. A quick look at the time could easily tell him that this was probably the last guest who would walk into the party, but unfortunately, his watch was still broken, the hands stuck on 9:34 and desperately trying to get to 9:35.

  
Iris slowly walked up the stairs. She didn't know why she'd agreed to go alone. She wasn't as good in improvisation or lying as Markus, or hell, even Brooke could pull off an "averted truth" as she called them, once in a while. Fortunately, it seemed something was bothering the security, as she noticed the man at the door frantically talking in his earpiece. She tried not to shake too much as she handed her invitation. This one was legit, she still didn't know how Markus had gotten a legit invitation to the party, but she was thankful for it. The man looked the invitation on both sides before he let her through with a simple nod.

  
She pushed the door open. She hadn't even noticed how loud the music was until now. She gulped and walked in. She could see the crowd dancing from over here. She kept on moving forward, accidentally ignoring the attendant who asked if she wanted to leave a jacket or a purse. The colorful light attached to the ceiling made her blink. She hated harsh lights, especially yellow lights, one of the three colors which kept on passing over the dance floor.

  
Thankfully, as she began to walk around the crowd, she found Brooke at the bar, who was very obviously staring at her. She could feel herself blush already.

  
Brooke had very clearly noticed her girlfriend's entrance as soon as she'd walked into the light, and it had left her stunned. Though the darkness and the flashing lights didn't help Brooke much, she still managed to guess the color of Iris' dress, red, the color of the first bouquet of rose she'd ever given her. The dress had soft looking shoulder straps, leaving her collarbones partly exposed. It went all the way down to her ankles, but there was a slit in the dress, enough to guess Iris bronzed colored leg as she approached. It was only when she was right in front of Brooke that she notice Iris was on heels, making her taller than her for once – Brooke had turned her one-inch superiority into a running joke when they were in high school, and she was at a lost for jokes right now. But most importantly, she noticed Iris was wearing makeup. She first noticed her painted lips, then the light blush on her cheeks. She wondered which of the girls had done her makeup because she was sure Iris hadn't done it herself, especially not the powder around her eyes, which managed to mask her usually marks pretty well, turning them into barely visible veins at worst.

  
"Wow..." Brooke let out.

  
Iris continued to blush furiously, feeling her whole face burning up.

  
"You're not bad yourself."

  
"That's the biggest lie you've ever told me."

  
"No, it's true... you look classy."

  
Brooke smiled brightly, feeling like the bumbling awkward idiot she'd never been before. She passed her tongue on her drying lips and asked:

  
"Do you want to dance?"

  
Iris seemed surprised by Brooke proposal.

  
"Really?"

  
"I'm sorry. Markus told me I should, but..."

  
Iris chuckled. Since when did Brooke listen to a single word Markus spoke?

  
"I would very much like to dance with you, but not..."

  
They both looked at the dance floor, packed with sweaty people who'd probably been dancing ever since they'd gotten here. Brooke took Iris' hand in hers.

  
"Outside?"

  
Iris nodded.

  
"Outside would be lovely."

* * *

  
They made their way outside easily, though Brooke had to push a few people aside. Once in the garden, Iris felt like she was breathing again. There were just as many people as inside, but most of them were concentrating around and in the pool, the music from inside blasting just as loudly. They walked toward the grass, but stop right at the edge of the stone terrace. Brooke guessed Iris wouldn't like to walk with heels in the dirt.

  
For a moment, they only stared at each other, unsure of how to proceed. Finally, Brooke placed both her hands on Iris' waist and Iris placed them around her neck. It was a bit awkward, but neither minded as they began to sway from side to side, at their own pace, the music all but forgotten.

  
"So, who did your makeup?" Brooke asked.

  
"Hum... Neelam did. Her complexion is a bit darker than mine but I think it looks good."

  
"It does."

  
Iris relaxed into her girlfriend's arms, stepping closer. It felt so weird to be taller than her.

  
"You think everything is going fine?"

  
Brooke couldn't help but smile when she replied:

  
"I stopped thinking about it when you walked down those stairs."

  
Iris continued to blush furiously.

  
"Be serious."

  
"I am."

  
Brooke glanced around but no one seemed bothered by their presence, nor did she noticed anyone panicking.

  
"Everything seems fine."

  
"How are you feeling?" Iris asked.

  
"Like I've had to wait way too long to hold you tonight."

  
Iris raised an eyebrow and Brooke couldn't help but smile.

  
"You know I never lie. You're beautiful."

  
"I guess I'll have to wait until you're done being in awe of my beauty to have a serious conversation," Iris replied jokingly.

  
Brooke, however, could see how flustered she was, how her eyes darted nervously over her face and her neck.

  
"You're going to have to wait for a long, long time then. So if you have something to say, I suggest you say it now."

  
Iris pursed her lips. She'd left the box in her bag, back at their base. Was it improper to ask without the ring?

  
"Brooke, I..."

  
Before she could complete her thought, however, there was a loud sound coming from inside. Both girls separated quickly as the music died down, and everyone waited to see what was going on. Brooke already felt she knew who was responsible for this.

  
"I swear if Neelam just blew a hole in a wall or something I'm going to slap her."

  
"In my defense, they started it."

* * *

  
Belle was repeating every step of their plan one last time in her mind. Charlie was keeping their exit car close as well as keeping an eye on the garden. Brooke and Iris were in the main room, just in case reinforcement was needed. So was Markus, after he'd turned off Hope's talkie and, hopefully, she wouldn't notice it just yet. Holden had taken care of the majority of the guards upstairs, and, as she'd planned, Neelam had completely forgone the idea of discretion and was now making a mess, distracting everyone. Now it was her time to act.

  
She focused on their objective and held out a hand. A portal opened in front of her, it limits glowing in teal, the same color as Neelam's powers. The air seemed sucked in by the portal. She carefully passed through, and the portal closed behind her. She was in a dark office, and she could hear Neelam's mess under her feet. She assumed they had two minutes at worst before Freddy intervened, in which case she hoped Neelam would be able to pull back in time.

  
The office was ostentatious, to say the least. A large but almost empty desk – she wondered what kind of deals Freddy ever made to win his money. There were comfortable looking chairs on her side of the desk, and a leather one on the other side. She counted three cabinets in the room. One had glass doors and a large number of alcohol bottles visible through it. The two others were placed on either side of the room. A few trinkets rested on the first one. A katana rested on the second. She rolled her eyes. Freddy sure loved his weapon.

  
She quickly searched through the desk's drawers but found only more papers and files, nothing which would have interest her. The first piece of furniture was hiding old books which she thought deserved to be restored and exposed, but that was not the point of their heist right now. In the second she found a bunch of records and a brand new gramophone. She sighed. She'd been sure an egomaniac like Freddy would keep something as precious and prized as a key in his own office, so he could look at it every day and smirk like a cartoon villain a the sight of it.

  
There was a flash of light through the large window behind the desk, and Belle quickly hid behind the desk's drawer, hoping whoever was down there wouldn't see her. It was then that the light caught the blade of the katana, and Belle frowned when she noticed something. She knew the story of Freddy's demise by heart. Freddy's blade had been forged in a dark red metal, called demonic metal. Freddy's half-brother, however, had a blade forged from both demonic metal, and a white silvery metal called angelic metal. It was this alloy of the two which no one thought would ever hold, which had taken Freddy down, or so everyone thought. This blade, half glowing in the light, was not Freddy's weapon.

  
As the realization dawned on her, she made sure the light was gone and stood up. She looked at the blade longly. Dark red metal danced with silvery white. This was undeniably Nolan's blade, and the shape of the guard corresponded exactly to the key she'd been looking for. She hesitated. Should she break the blade and only take the guard? She couldn't leave such an iconic weapon in Freddy's hand, even incomplete. Carefully, she wrapped her right hand in her cloak and picked up the handle of the katana. She knew the metal would slowly burn through the cloth until it began to burn her hand, but by then, she would probably be long gone.

  
She felt the air shimmer behind her and the cold feeling of a barrel pressed against her head. The smell of whiskey and way too much masculine perfume filled the air around her.

  
"Well, well, well, what a surprise!"

  
She froze. Freddy had found her.

**Author's Note:**

> Pretty long, I know. Did you like it? Please comment and tell me what you thought! Thank you for reading it till the end, you're the best!


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